


In Her Memory

by Amintadefender



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Charles doesn't understand kids, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Marianne is actually dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amintadefender/pseuds/Amintadefender
Summary: V.V. made sure to finish the job properly this time, leaving Charles to collect the fractured remnants of Marianne's memories and deal with the son she left behind.
Relationships: Charles zi Britannia & Lelouch vi Britannia, Marianne vi Britannia/Charles zi Britannia
Comments: 42
Kudos: 70





	In Her Memory

Filled with restless energy, Charles finds himself standing on top of the grand staircase. Beneath him is the spot where Marianne died, marked with a vivid maroon stain.

Three days have passed without a hint as towards the culprit and life at court has seemingly moved on. Only, Charles cannot move on. Every way he turns, he still expects Marianne's gentle laughter and teasing rebukes.

The world feels dull without her. Even his brother's warm words of comfort cannot lift the veil of despair.

Without Marianne... His Empress, his wife, his knight, the fires of passion have died. What is the point of ruling an Empire and crafting a perfect world if he has no one to share it with?

Charles closes his eyes and turns away from the treacherous staircase. The red stain is unsightly, reminding him of her bullet riddled corpse. Maybe, this evening, when he returns to his private sanctuary and visits the World of C, she will finally respond to his call.

So far, her soul has been silent. Strange for someone who burned with life.

His footsteps echo through the empty mansion. Outside of the gentle swish of his guard's cloak behind him, he is surrounded by silence. It's wrong. The mansion is always thriving with activity and endless laughter.

For a moment, he considers ordering the guard to leave, but the risk is too great even if he wants to wallow in his misery alone.

A photo of him sitting beneath a tree catches his eyes, and an unbidden chuckle escapes him. When did Marianne even take it? It is years old. She always hung up pictures—many of which he is sure he ordered to be destroyed—despite his protests.

Naturally, he removed them. Such candid images aren't proper. Marianne though has—had an infinite supply and took great joy in displaying them prominently or discreetly depending on her mood.

His fingers brush past the frame. Normally, he would remove it and, if he was particularly annoyed, take one of her favorite movies hostage as well. Truly, he is doing the world a favor, sparing them from Marianne's awful taste.

Instead, he withdraws his hand, his chest unusually tight. Marianne is gone. If he removes it, there won't be another picture to replace it. With her death, the mansion will be empty regardless. No one will see it.

Slowly, he wanders through the desolate hallways, searching for reminders of Marianne's presence. There should be something beyond a mere photo. Marianne is—was a whirlwind, disregarding all propriety. The servants always scurried after her to clean up the belongings she casually disregarded. He has lost track of the number of times he rushed after her with a forgotten hat, scarf, or even a sword. His own chambers fell victim to her as well with a small collection of her books and jewelry scattered throughout.

The latter was more her staking her claim on him. She had left her knight pin one too many times for it to be an accident.

Silently, he curses that, a week prior, he ordered her to clean up after herself. Then, her mess was annoying. Now, he longs for her memory.

The mansion has nothing. The servants have done their job too well. Covered the furniture with white tarps. Brought her belongings into storage. Even repaired the windows.

The only hint that Marianne lived here is the bloody stain on the damn stairs.

Her clothes, her books, her trinkets: gone.

He should have come sooner but was too much of a coward and brimming with rage. If he had, he would have more to remember her by.

Maybe he should order her items to be brought out of storage. But the court will hear of him grieving and, therefore, think him unfit to be the Emperor.

There are already whispers that he is weak for letting his favored wife die. Or a heartless tyrant, who ordered the deed.

The latter, while painful,—he would never hurt her—is preferable. If he cannot be loved, then it is better to be feared.

Image is everything. He has to appear strong and unaffected to hold the Empire together. Even if he is being torn apart from the inside.

Until he finds her murder and deals with them, he needs the power of the Empire. Vengeance comes first. Only after, will he consider what to do next.

He stops before a mirror directing the sunlight into the cavernous halls. His geass flickers to life momentarily, casting his eyes red. He misses Marianne...

It would be so easy to remove this weakness from himself. He has done it before. Muted the memories of his own parents so they became faceless figures. One cannot grieve what one doesn't remember.

Forgetting Marianne... The prospect is frightening. While he feels her absence keenly, the warm memories together are precious. And painful.

Very painful because she is out of his reach.

Maybe after... For now, he needs the pain to fuel his quest to uncover the truth behind her assassination.

Looking out the window and into the lavish garden, he smiles sadly. Marianne designed it, and then redesigned it three times. This is something not so easily erased.

The guard steps closer as Charles exits the mansion and enters Marianne's last domain. Surrounded by the flowers and designs she chose, he finally feels close to her. He breathes deeply, the sweet scents tickling his nose. It's still not enough. Cannot be enough because she is gone.

He wants... He doesn't know what he wants.

The stables on the side catches his attention, and he wonders if her horse remains. He gave it to her as a wedding present and she fawned over it constantly. It's a living, breathing reminder of her.

Entering the stables, he hears nothing and his heart sinks. Regardless, he trudges forward to her horse's stall. Maybe the horse is merely silent.

The stall is empty, only a pile of hay lying in the dark corner.

Ridiculous. He is being absolutely ridiculous. He controls an Empire spanning half the world, yet is disappointed at not being able to reminisce or something... with a horse. Admittedly, Marianne's favorite horse... but still, a horse.

Marianne would be laughing her ass off at him.

Shaking his head, he turns away. How far has he fallen? The guard, conditioned to be absolutely loyal, says nothing and casts no judgement. There is a reason Charles came here in secret. Succumbing to emotions and discarding rationality? If anyone knew, an attempted coup would shortly follow. Schneizel would not hesitate.

Maybe he should modify his memories. Take the edge off his grief. Just enough to think clearly.

The hay rustles behind him.

He freezes. Is it Marianne's assassin? Here to finish him off as well?

His guard draws a gun, pushing past him and entering the stall. Charles follows closely behind. If it's Marianne's killer, he wants to see their eyes before one of them dies.

It's not an assassin.

Buried in the hay, almost invisible, is Lelouch, curled up around a book and fast asleep.

How is he even here? Lelouch is supposed to be in the palace, guarded in case the assassin decides to return and finish the rest of the family. Nunnally rests in the small medical wing, recovering from her injuries in a medical coma. Both of them are under guard.

Lelouch should not be here.

Yet, he is.

The boy shifts again, his lips parting and face twisting in pain. He whimpers and hugs the book.

Charles doesn't know what to do. Doesn't understand children and their incessant need to be clingy. Despises their mercurial moods and illogical actions. They also cry... a lot.

He should leave and order a guard to ensure Lelouch returns to the palace safely. Then, Charles will discover how Lelouch slipped through the security and punish the appropriate party.

Lelouch is eight? No, nine? Regardless, there is no excuse for letting a child sneak past the stringent security.

Before he can leave, purple eyes flutter open and bore into him. "Father?"

Charles forces himself to return the gaze, despite the wide purple eyes, and for a moment, all he can see is Marianne. Marianne's nose, her chin, her hair.

The eyes though... Those are his. Of all his children, Lelouch is the first to have that particular shade of purple.

Contrary to expectations, Lelouch doesn't cry. Instead, he rubs his eyes and clutches the book more tightly. "What are you doing here, Fa—Your Majesty?"

That is the question. One he doesn't quite have an answer to.

"I think I should be asking you that," Charles says.

Lelouch hunches over the book, his hair falling over his eyes. Covered in straw, he looks pitiful. "I heard... Everything belongs to Mother, but they took it all away! They should just leave it alone."

"So you came here?" Charles asks, trying to understand how his son ended up in the barn.

"I couldn't let them have it," Lelouch grumbles, hugging the book to his chest.

Which explains nothing.

Charles sighs and steps inside the stall, his cloak brushing over the dirty floor. "Show me."

Lelouch glares, sinking even deeper into the haystack.

"I will return it," Charles promises; it doesn't seem to sway his son. Stubborn child. He steps closer and extends a hand. Warningly, he says, "Lelouch."

Grudgingly, Lelouch drops his gaze and relinquishes the book.

Opening it, Charles can immediately tell why his son was so hesitant. It's Marianne's. 

A scrapbook filled to the brim with pictures of her and her children. And a few of him as well. In the margins, she wrote personal notes and jokes, contextualizing each image. The scrapbook even smells of her. He doesn't want to return it. Somehow, his son succeeded where he couldn't, and found a piece of Marianne in a home swept clean.

"Give it back," Lelouch orders, having finally risen to his feet. While he stands imperiously, his chin thrust out, the straw clinging to his clothes ruins the regal image.

Charles raises an eyebrow at the boy's impudence. He is the Emperor here. His son's only claim to power is the blood flowing through his veins.

Like Marianne, Lelouch doesn't back down. "It's Mother's and I won't let you destroy it. Not like everything else."

The accusation rings heavy. Children are blind to the double speak of court, or so Charles thought. Clearly, Lelouch has caught wind of the rumors in court. That he was the one to order the assassination. A useful fiction to cover his weakness.

"Why didn't you keep Mother out of harm's way?" Lelouch demands.

Charles closes his eyes, processing his own grief. He should have kept Marianne safe, yet failed in his duty. She is dead. 

The scrapbook is all that remains of her thoughts and wishes.

No.

Her son is here too. Unlike Antoinette's children, he doesn't cry at his mother's passing. He is angry, rightfully so.

Marianne would be proud.

"I didn't order it," Charles says softly, cutting through their son's tirade.

Lelouch snarls, "Then who is responsible?"

"I don't know," Charles admits. Here, in an empty barn, the mask is too heavy to wear. "Marianne dismissed her guards the night of. No one saw anything until the morning, by then, it was too late, and the trail was cold."

"She trusted her assassin?" Lelouch asks and the world freezes in comprehension.

Marianne dismissed Cornelia along with most of the personal guards he assigned her. The ones who died with her had known of geass. Of course, they had no luck finding an assassin who could manipulate minds.

Someone she trusted?

The hazy cloud of grief which brought his mind to a halt is dispersing. In its place, anger burns through cobwebs and recalls memories with numerous clues he overlooked.

A clandestine meeting.

Unlike the rest of the court, he knows Marianne wasn't having an affair. It's not a thought he ever considered, but she would keep a meeting regarding geass quiet. And only one person would've talked to her without his knowing.

V.V.

He has been strangely happy these past few weeks.

Charles has no proof, but the pieces... They fit so unnervingly well.

It also explains why Marianne's soul has been so quiet. She should've talked to him. There is nothing which would keep her away. Her force of will is too strong.

But if V.V. found a way to destroy a soul...

Charles cannot understand why his brother, who promised to never lie to him, has betrayed him, but he will have his revenge. Now, knowing where to look, proof will be easy to find.

There is a miniscule chance C.C. is responsible instead. 

Resolving that dilemma shouldn't be too difficult. More problematic will be killing an immortal with a loyal order of geass soldiers behind them.

Lelouch is still staring at him, expecting an answer. For the first time, Charles finally considers his son. The boy is rash. Displays his emotions too easily. And may actually forget his place if Charles doesn't return the scrapbook.

Handing the book back and watching the boy's eyes widen in disbelief, then gratitude, is surprisingly easy. While a part of him still wants to hoard the last memento of Marianne, Lelouch will guard the scrapbook well.

There is a keen intellect in Lelouch's eyes. His insight into Marianne's assassination was surprisingly helpful. And somehow, Lelouch managed to find his way from the imperial palace to the barn.

At court, the nobles expect Charles to disinherit Marianne's children. They have little political value and would never be accepted with commoner blood running through their veins. Marianne was seen as a mere infatuation, a fling. As if something like that could ever describe the depth and breadth of their relationship.

No.

He has no particular inclination to send his son away. Even if they would be safer far from court. Marianne's children are the last tangible reminder of her. The scrapbook, while a welcome surprise, can never compare to someone who knows her.

Lelouch... Lelouch will be useful. With his sister crippled, he has the necessary drive to succeed. Childish impudence can be trained away. There is potential within him, only needing to be honed. And when the time comes, having Marianne's son by his side as he strikes down her killer will be the ultimate revenge.

"What will happen to Nunnally and I?" Lelouch asks, once again hugging the book. "Are you sending us away?"

"No." The answer comes easily. "You want revenge, correct?"

The boy gapes, then smiles in anticipation. His shoulders roll back, and he finally stops clinging to the book. "Who killed her?"

"A powerful enemy," Charles warns. "Even I, as the Emperor, cannot confront them directly. If you want revenge, we will have to prepare carefully. You will have to cast aside your weakness."

Lelouch scowls at the last statement. "Nunnally isn't weak."

"Your lack of emotional control makes you weak." Charles picks a piece of straw out of his son's hair. "Everyone has weak points, and people who are precious to them. Marianne was one of mine, but she also gave me strength. I... loved her." The word feels inadequate. "But to the court, she was merely my favored wife. Important yes, but nothing which suggested to what extremes I would go for her. I will be calling off the investigation tomorrow."

Seeing the brief expression of rage, Charles wonders if he made a mistake.

Lelouch’s eyes narrow. “A ruse.” Good, he understands. "And what will I do?"

An amused grin graces Charles's lips as he looks down on his son. There is indeed potential in him. "I am thinking of a childish tantrum from a son who thinks his father is letting his mother's murderer walk free."

It will be a test. If Lelouch can control his emotions, put on a convincing act, then he has the skills necessary to survive.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Lelouch says, radiating anticipation.

...

Two days later, Lelouch requests an audience with the Emperor. Before the entire court, their argument plays out in splendid glory. Charles, the ruthless and pragmatic Emperor. Lelouch, the prince too prideful for his own good. At the end, Charles banishes his son and daughter to live with some minor baron to be used as bargaining chips.

The nobles will talk of this for years to come. They understand Charles's favor means nothing, if they prove themselves unworthy. More importantly, there is no doubt that whatever affection he may have had for Marianne doesn't extend to her children. Lelouch and Nunnally are officially beneath everyone's notice.

Once the court is dismissed, Charles enters a hidden antechamber where he bid one of his personal guards to usher his son inside after their display. Lelouch drops to his knees immediately upon seeing him and holds a formal bow.

Charles takes a moment to observe his son. His cheeks are still flushed from his tantrum, but he is the perfect picture of subservience. "You did well, Lelouch."

"Am I really banished?" Lelouch asks quietly.

"Are you actually renouncing your claim to the throne?" Charles counters. He didn't expect his son to go so far.

"No, Your Majesty," Lelouch says. "I thought it would make it more believable."

"Then consider yourself un-banished, my son." 

"Thank you." Lelouch pauses, then hesitantly adds, "Father."

His son rises and Charles smiles. Given the proper motivation, his son can act. With the minor baron already under the sway of his geass, no one will discover the truth until it's too late. For now, he will keep his son close. Charles may have failed in protecting Marianne, but he will allow no such harm to befall his son. Partially, for her memory. But also because he can see flashes of himself reflected in the boy's violet eyes.

Like Charles, Lelouch has lost his mother at a young age and latched onto his sibling. Charles can only hope their relationship will be less treacherous than his and V.V.'s. The bond between siblings is unimaginably strong, but also hides any betrayal. Regardless, Charles won't allow history to repeat itself. He and V.V. raised each other without any outside influences as they struggled to survive.

Charles imagined Ragnarock to spare others from such hardships. Without Marianne, who never was too keen on the plan, and V.V.'s betrayal, he has no energy to pursue it further.

Instead, he will spare Lelouch and become a... father.

"Will you visit Nunnally, Father?" Lelouch demands, his eyes narrowed. 

His son, now filled with purpose, is harder to read, but Charles understands this is a test of some kind. What he fails to see is why his presence is important or why his son seems to relish the word "father." His answer though is important.

Without Marianne and Nunnally in a medical coma, Lelouch has no one.

Charles has to fill the void, so he reaches out, copying one of Marianne's mannerisms, and ruffles his son's hair. For a moment, the boy freezes and Charles fears he made a mistake, then Lelouch relaxes, leaning into the touch. 

"Of course, my son," he says.

...

Seated next to his daughter's bed, Charles wonders at the strange comfort the boy takes in simply watching his sister's too still form. He would rather leave instead of waiting here. Hospitals make him restless. Death is always around the corner. But Lelouch... He is calm and relaxed, holding his sister's limp hands. Fortunately, the doctors say she will wake soon.

For Marianne's sake, Charles indulged her strange idiosyncrasies. For her son's sake, he will do the same. Sitting quietly in a room is nothing compared to Marianne ordering him to wear a hat and sunglasses, so she can drag him into town. Or her French movie marathons—while she may have died, Charles should still hurry up and conquer the E.U., lest her son inherited her atrocious taste.

Lelouch shifts his sister's hand back on the bed and turns, smiling hesitantly. Unsure how to respond to a child's genuine affection, Charles ruffles his hair. For now, he must resort to imitating Marianne.

Apparently, it is enough. Lelouch takes his token gesture as permission to lean against him and fall asleep. The doctor, upon his return, smiles and Charles chases him off with a harsh glare. He has no need for someone else to witness this indignity.

Glancing down at his sleeping son, he notes his face is relaxed and breathing is calm, in stark contrast to when Charles found his son in the barn. Despite everything... Lelouch trusts him and Charles doesn't quite know what to do with something so fragile. Trust leads to betrayal and death. Trust killed Marianne. His son would be better off hardening his heart.

Charles trusted Marianne... She trusted him. Their relationship was stronger for it. 

When was the last time he and V.V. confided in each other? Too long. Perhaps that was why the betrayal occurred.

He will have to train Lelouch. The last remnants of childish innocence, fractured as it may be from the assassination, has to be torn away for survival's sake. Much like he trains his guards to be perfectly loyal killers, he must train his son to be the perfect prince. When Lelouch returns to court, there will be no question regarding his skill and power. Only fools will dare to target him, and by then, his son should be able to dispatch them with ease.

Charles shifts as his son's uncomfortable weight bears down on him and notes his right arm, unbidden, has draped over his son. At the unexpected movement, his son mumbles and scoots closer.

Clearly, Charles cannot train his son like an agent of his. For one, they don't cuddle. Secondly, Marianne will find a way to haunt him—admittedly tempting—should he employ the same harsh tactics on her son. Lastly, Charles is hesitant to shatter the trust his son so freely gives.

He still has time to rectify this growing feeling of fondness. He can erase Lelouch's memories and send him far away where he will be safe, and V.V. can never find him. Keeping his son by his side, hidden within the palace, is a sign of weakness.

Lelouch's chest rises and falls slowly. He looks so peaceful. When was the last time the boy slept?

He was never rational concerning Marianne, and he cannot force himself to be with her son either. Lelouch is the last reminder, so he will stay. Even if it is a decision Charles will one day rue.

Raising a child... Charles does not know where to begin. At least, Lelouch is mature enough. His strange craving for physical contact aside, he does not cry nor ask needlessly stupid questions. Some nobles, which Charles must deal with on a regular basis, are more annoying. And unlike those in court, as long as Charles holds his son's trust, he does not have to fear betrayal.

They both treasure Marianne's memory which binds them closely together. 

Charles can easily manipulate adults and make them dance to his tunes. Children are irrational, making them hard to predict, but the basis has to be the same. Only what his son desires is different from the average noble. Revenge is an understandable emotion. It too bides its time in Charles's heart. But beyond that, his son doesn't want power, land, or wealth.

Lelouch merely craves Charles's presence at Nunnally's bedside, words of praise, and a warm hand ruffling his hair. Why are these meaningless gestures so valuable? The reason may elude Charles, but the gestures cost him nothing. If this secures his son's loyalty and absolute trust, then he will employ them. 

No one will ever steal the last memory of Marianne away from him. He will obliterate anyone who dares to try.

Slowly, he lifts his hand and strokes his son's back, much like he has seen Marianne do. The gesture feels awkward. His wife's memory lives on within Charles as well. He cannot risk forgetting her when her mannerisms are the tools necessary to keep her son tied to his will. 

This kind of manipulation is different from anything he has ever faced before. His lips curl in anticipation. A challenge to prevent his mind spiraling into grief. He looks forward to it.

"Lelouch," he whispers. His son's fringe obscures his eyes. Annoyed, Charles sweeps it aside. "It's time to wake up, my son."

_ His _ son. No one else's. Once, he was  _ their _ son, but without Marianne, Lelouch is only his _. _

"Father?" Lelouch murmurers, the purple eyes blinking slowly. Upon realizing he is curled up in Charles's lap, Lelouch startles backwards and stands abruptly, his cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry."

"Quite alright, my son." Charles relishes the last word. Perhaps this is why his son prefers to address him as father. "You seem to be tired. Perhaps, next time, we should find you a bed instead of a haystack to sleep in?"

Lelouch studiously avoids his gaze.

"Come, there is work to be done." A whole mountain of paperwork Charles let accrue grieving Marianne. And now he must take care of his son's accommodations as well. "You will help."

Instead of being saddened at the idea of working, Lelouch nods eagerly, a smile blinding him. He turns to Nunnally, whispers her goodbye, and presses a chaste kiss to her forehead, As they leave, Lelouch casts one last longing look at his sister before the door closes.

A small hand reaches out and brushes past Charles's hand. Surprised, he stops. Like before, Lelouch takes it as permission and his delicate fingers curl around Charles's own. 

"Father?" Lelouch asks as he stands frozen.

"A stray thought," Charles answers as he resumes walking. Hearing his son's stumbling footsteps, he slows. He and V.V. used to hold hands after their parents' assassination. He had forgotten. This time though, Charles is the one offering comfort instead of his older brother. While novel, the action also feels familiar. 

It's something he finally understands.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to relax so cranked this out in a few hours. While writing is relaxing, editing is not, so I apologize for any errors. 
> 
> My personal head canon is that Charles doesn't understand kids... at all. Writing him fumbling through parenting makes me want to cackle.
> 
> I'm unlikely to continue this one-shot. I do have another idea based on a similar premise where Charles responds to Marianne's death by taking a personal interest in Lelouch's upbringing, but that's a long ways off, since I don't have time for another long fic.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this. Leave a comment on your way out? :)


End file.
